The Damaged Bride

©2019 by Stella Clark

All rights reserved. No part of this may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means without prior written permission.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are a product of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, events or locales is completely coincidental.

Chapter 1
Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14

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Chapter One

Clara carried the last water pitcher into room fifty four and placed it on the small dresser. Her right foot trembled and she knew that if she didn’t sit down soon, it would give way. She said a silent prayer that Mrs. Smith, her employer, would not have another chore for her.

Refilling the pitchers of all the rooms in the hotel was usually her last task of the day, but sometimes Mrs. Smith added more jobs. As Clara trudged down the stairs, she heard Mrs. Smith’s distinct sharp voice coming from the parlor.

She tiptoed past, her breath held, hoping the other woman would not see her. Sometimes Clara thought her employer could see through walls as she seemed to know the exact moment Clara was done with a task. In the kitchen she found the cook, a sweet, friendly woman.

“Mrs. Jones, I’m finished for the day,” Clara said, trying to keep her mind from her throbbing leg. “May I leave?”

“Go on, love, you’ve been on your feet all day,” Mrs. Jones said, turning away from the stove. “I’ll tell Mrs. Smith.”

Clara shot her a grateful look and, taking her cloak from a nail behind the back door, she left the hotel. All she had to do was walk the twenty minutes to her home on the outskirts of town. She could do it, Clara told herself, gripping her right thigh.

With every step she took, the pain grew worse, and when the cottage she called home came into view, Clara almost wept. She pushed the door open, made straight for the parlor, and sank into a chair. Shutting her eyes, she leaned back and reveled in resting her feet after working all day.

A key turning alerted her to her father’s arrival. She stiffened. Despite her eyes been closed, she could tell that he was in the parlor, staring at her. The hair on her neck stiffened and her mouth went dry. He had a sharp tongue, that was all, Clara comforted herself. He would not hurt her.

A smell wafted up her nose. He had been drinking. It made him meaner than usual.

“No wonder your mother left.”

The words cut to Clara’s core and wounded her as they were meant to.

“I should have followed her,” he father continued. “But no, I chose to stay, and this is the thanks I get!” He shouted the last words.

Clara opened her eyes and met his beady red eyes, glaring at her.

“What did I do to get saddled with a lazy daughter? No smart man will have you, and I’m expected to take care of you all my life?”

“I’m just resting a while, Father. My leg hurts,” Clara explained, keeping her tone even.

He sneered. “What would you do if you didn’t have that leg for an excuse?”

“You know it’s not—” Clara started to say, and then clammed up. What was the use of defending herself?

Her father never ceased to remind her that she was the reason her mother had walked out on them some thirteen years ago. There was no one to confirm or deny his version of events as Clara herself had been nine years old.

A log had fallen on her right leg when she was two years old and since then, she had always walked with a limp and it hurt when she stood for too long. She barely managed at her maid job in the hotel as it involved a lot of standing. Clara made sure to sit down for a few minutes every hour.

Unfortunately, Mrs. Smith had caught her resting her leg several times, and Clara was afraid she would lose her job. If that happened, she had no doubt that her father would chase her away from home. She would be useless to him then. With an ache that was almost a physical pain, her thoughts returned to her mother.

If she was still with them, her father would not be insulting her every day, and Clara would not be contemplating going west as a mail order bride. She could not clearly recall her mother’s features. All she remembered was that her mother had a permanently worn-out expression.

She thought of the Matrimonial News ad she had hidden under her mattress. Every night before she slept, she looked at it and dreamed of how her life could be if she made the decision to write to the gentleman. She had read the ad so many times that it was now imprinted in her brain.

A rancher gentleman, 26 years of age, desires to correspond with a young lady with a view to matrimony. She must be hardworking and ready to make a home. In return she will be provided for and will not lack for anything.

The word ranch had gotten Clara’s imagination running. She thought of wide open spaces as far as the eyes could see and waking up to the chirping of birds. Life on a ranch sounded perfect. Only she hadn’t yet mustered the courage to write to the gentleman.

“Get up and go and cook us some supper!” her father shouted, making her jump.

She slowly got to her feet, trying to ignore the throbbing pain. In the privacy of the kitchen, she allowed the tears to come. She clamped her hand to her mouth to keep her sobs silent. The temptation to write to the gentleman in Kansas felt urgent.

But would he be interested in her if he knew that she had a bad leg? Clara tried to tell herself that she was hardworking, which more than made up for her lame leg, but to know that, he had to invite her to Kansas first. A plan formed in her mind as she diced onions and vegetables for the stew.

She wouldn’t tell him about her leg in her letter. It was a small lie, Clara told herself.

Chapter Two

Nate threw the last of the corn seeds into the soil, covered it, and sighed with relief as he surveyed his land. Just that morning, he’d gone to the dry goods store in town and bought corn seeds for another acre. He had a good feeling about this year’s harvest. It was going to be bountiful. Sweat trickled down the sides of his face as he picked up his hoe and made his way out of the field.

Dusk enveloped him as he walked towards the house. His muscles ached from exhaustion, but he felt exhilarated at having finished planting. There was still a lot more work to be done. Farm work was never done, and there was a whole list of chores waiting for the following day.

He could not help but admire his house as he climbed up the steps that led to the porch. It was simple but comfortable, and he liked nothing better than returning home in the evening after a hard day at work. The only thing missing was a wife, Nate mused, his mind shifting to the letter he had picked up from the post office that morning.

There had been no time to open and read it, as he had wanted to finish planting. Now, he lit a lantern and made his way to the kitchen and washed his hands and face. His stomach growled from hunger. He started a fire in the cookstove and heated the leftover potatoes and chunks of meat from the previous night.

Food was another reason he looked forward to having a wife. He ate the same thing almost every night and lunch. On some weekends, he visited his sister’s boarding house in town for a good wholesome meal. But it had been a while, since he had been busy making sure everything was planted on time.

As he waited for the food to heat up, he fetched the letter from the parlor and returned with it to the kitchen. It was postmarked Chicago. He frowned. A city girl. What would she know about living in a farm? His insides clenched with apprehension, he tore the envelope and slipped out the letter.

Dear Mr. Nate Linch,

My name is Clara Slater and I’m replying to your mail order bride ad in the Matrimonial News. I suppose I had better tell you a little about myself. I’m twenty three years of age, with blonde hair and blue eyes. I’m of slight build but quite strong. I have never lived on a farm, but I look forward to learning all I need to as I’m not fearful of hard work. I live alone with my father and work as a maid in a hotel in the city.

I would really like to come to the West as I want a life away from the city. There’s not much else to tell, really, other than that I love children and would love to make a home with you.

I look forward to a favorable reply.

Sincerely,

Clara Slater.

It was short and to the point and Nate liked that. What caught his interest was the part that said she worked as a maid in town. He beamed, pleased that the very first woman who had replied to his ad seemed what he was looking for.

Unlike other men, Nate had no interest in a woman’s looks as long as she could do the work. There was too much to do at the ranch, and he needed someone to help him. Of course, there was also the small issue of children. He wanted quite a number, and he hoped he could achieve that without too much emotional attachment to their mother.

Inevitably, his mind returned to his own childhood. He had grown up in an orphanage all because his father had loved his wife. He would be smarter than his wife, Nate had decided. He would not let a woman destroy him. He glanced at the letter again.

Miss Clara seemed like a woman who was not prone to romance and all that nonsense. He hoped so, otherwise, she would be terribly disappointed. He had been careful when he had worded the ad. There had been no mention of the word love.

If she had read it carefully, she would know that he was offering everything else except love and affection. Suddenly, he couldn’t wait for Clara to come to Kansas. Together, they would make the farm one of the most profitable enterprises in the state.

If things went as planned, Nate had big plans to expand his acreage and venture into beef cattle farming in the coming years. All his plans would only work if he married the right woman. Someone who was physically strong and hardworking.

One who could work alongside him, bear him many children, and also lend a hand in the farm. The more children they had, the better. That meant reliable people and lower labor costs.

He became aware of the scent of the stew as it simmered in the pot. He put the letter down and went to serve himself dinner. As he ate, plans whirled in his brain. His children would be proud of him, and at the end of his days, he would know he had lived a useful life. He’d been successful despite a difficult start to his life.

As soon as he was done with dinner, he rinsed off his plate and proceeded to pen a reply to Miss Clara. He had decided to invite her to Kansas with the intentions of marrying her. His hand shook with excitement and he had to stop writing to get his emotions under control.

Advertising for a mail order bride was the smartest thing he had done. His life had taken on new meaning, and now he could see his dreams coming to be.

Chapter Three

Through the dawn light streaming in from the drapes, Clara stood and took in the room she had slept in all her life. Her eyes were swollen from crying most of the night. Finally, with a last lingering look, she picked up her bags from the floor and trudged out of the room.

Her pa’s room was down the hallway and she paused as she went past. His snores came through the door and she closed her eyes as she wrestled with herself. Her plan had been to sneak out of the cottage and leave before Pa woke up.

Now, her heart ached at the thought of leaving without saying goodbye. No matter how much he had insulted her in the past, he was still her father, and a part of her loved him. She inhaled sharply, placed her bags on the floor, and then knocked on the door.

No response. She knocked again, a little louder.

“Yes? That you Clara?” Pa shouted from inside.

“Yes, Pa,” she said, her voice shaky.

“What do you want?”

She pushed the door open and peered in. It was completely dark in the room with the drapes drawn. “I’m leaving, Pa.”

Silence.

“Pa?”

He grunted.

Clara forced herself to go on. “I’m going to the west to get married. Kansas. I replied to a mail order ad and he proposed.”

“You know that he’ll take one look at that leg and send you right back,” her father said.

His words cut right through her heart and for a few seconds, she could not speak. Her chest squeezed with pain and tears jumped to her eyes. Why did he have to be so cruel? He had voiced the exact sentiments that had kept her awake for many nights.

“Goodbye, Pa,” Clara said, her voice heavy with emotion. She shut the door, picked up her bags, and left the house.

The street was empty at this time of morning, but Clara’s mind was on what her pa had said. She kept putting one foot in front of the other, or else she would give in to the fear and return home. The fear of rejection was real and grew with every step she took.

Then she thought of the alternative. Spending the rest of her life with her father. That would be worse than anything that might be waiting for her in Kansas. That thought replaced fear with hope. She was moving to Kansas to become the wife of Nate Linch.

She had been surprised when she received his letter inviting her to Kansas after exchanging only one letter. She had put it down to enthusiasm, on his part and she couldn’t wait to meet him. He had described his home and that had stirred up her longings to leave.

In her fantasies, she saw herself working side by side with him in the fields and then, after a long day at work, retiring to their chambers. That part always made her blush. Working in a hotel meant that she was well versed in men and women’s relationships.

She hoped that as soon as she clapped her eyes on him, she would fall in love. Joy flooded her as she entered the depot and made her way to the ticket office. Everything was going to work out just fine, her instincts screamed.

***

Twenty minutes later, Clara was in the passenger car, seated between two women and their families. It was not the most comfortable arrangement, but Clara refused to let the discomfort bother her. What mattered was that she would be in Kansas in a few days to begin her new life.

As the train inched out of the depot, the two families in the car pressed their noses to the window to say goodbye to their loved ones who had come to see them off. A thickness formed in her throat and Clara blinked back tears. It would have been lovely if her pa had made the effort to see her off at the station.

He had behaved as if he was glad to be rid of her. It hurt, and it shouldn’t have. He had never once shown her any affection as she was growing up. Why had she expected anything different? A soft hand landed on her lap, bringing Clara back to the present.

“Feeling sad at leaving your family?” the brown-haired woman on her left asked.

Clara tried to smile. “Yes.”

“It gets easier,” she said. “This is the third time we’re moving in two years,” she confided with a wink. “My husband has itchy feet, but I hope that this time, it will be our last move. My name is Elizabeth Sears.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you. Mine’s Clara Slater.”

The toddler on the woman’s lap wiggled and she changed his position. “It’s nice to meet you too. You can never have enough friends, especially when you’re moving to a new home.”

“Where are you moving to?” Clara asked, happy to have a distraction from her thoughts.

“To Montana,” she said. “My husband went ahead of us by a few months to lay a claim and build us a home.”

Clara had no idea what a claim was, but she nodded nonetheless.

“What about yourself?”

“I’m going to get married,” Clara said.

“Oh, how exciting. Your fiancé went on ahead as my husband did?”

“No, we haven’t even met. I answered a mail order bride ad in the newspaper,” Clara explained, and then dissolved into giggles at the other woman’s shocked expression.

“You’re a brave woman,” she exclaimed.

Clara’s heart swelled with pride and she felt like she was six feet tall. It was true. She was brave. After all, she had not given in to the fears that had plagued her before she left home. She would weather whatever storms came her way as long as she had a roof over her head and food to eat.

“I am,” she said to the woman and beamed.

Chapter Four

Nate stared moodily at the horizon and willed the train to come. There was still much to be done in the farm before the day was over. It was already half an hour late. His gaze lifted up to the sky and took in the blue skies. The sun was out, but not hot enough to burn.

He liked spring, and now, he would get even more done with Clara to help him. Just then, a whistle cut into the silence in the depot and the train appeared in the distance. His heartbeat raced and drummed in his chest. The moment he had been looking forward to for months had finally arrived.

The train slowed down and came to a stop along the platform. Nate stepped back to better observe the passengers as they stepped off the train. Several people disembarked and then his attention was caught by a pretty blonde-haired woman getting off the train.

Mesmerized, he watched as she gingerly stepped on the platform and then bent to rub her right leg. She looked so delicate and completely out of place in Kansas. She belonged in the east, surrounded by luxury and servants to see to her every need.

She wore a grimace as she straightened, and concern came over him as he watched her limp away from the train doors. She looked up and time stood still as their gazes fused. She smiled, and his heart did somersaults in his body. Then, to his utter amazement, she limped her way towards him.

“Mr. Linch?”

How did she know his name? “Yes?”

“My name is Clara Slater,” she said and smiled expectantly.

Nate’s jaw fell open and he froze. It couldn’t be! She couldn’t be his mail order bride. She could not have worked in a hotel with her delicate features! He shook his head in denial, and yet she had introduced herself as Clara Slater.

When the shock lifted, anger flooded him. She had lied to him! He took a step back, and her smile disappeared.

“I think there must be a mistake,” he finally said. “I explained how difficult life here in the West is. I need a strong wife, someone who can help in the fields and at home.”

“I realize that, and I can do that. I’m stronger than I look,” she said.

His gaze dropped to her lame leg. “You have a bad leg,” he pointed out.

Tears filled her eyes. A painful ache formed in his throat. He longed to gather her in his arms and protect her. But this was not the time to let feelings get in the way of his dreams. No matter how pretty she was or how attracted he was to her, the farm was more important.

She would be a burden rather than the help he had envisioned.

“My leg doesn’t stop me from working. It never has.”

He sighed deeply. It wasn’t just the leg. She was petite and delicate looking. She could not work in a farm. Whatever she had done in the hotel must have been light work. What a fool he had been not to inquire further.

“I’m sorry,” he finally murmured and looked away, unable to meet her teary glance. His mind worked fast. It wasn’t fair to send her back home when she had come all this way to get married. An idea popped into his brain. “This is the West; there are far fewer women than men. I’m sure you’ll soon get someone to marry you. A banker or a doctor perhaps.”

He snuck a glance. She was looking at him as though he had suggested something entirely inappropriate. Still, he understood her position. She had come to get married to him and now she had found herself without a husband. His resolve hardened. He was not going to marry her from sympathy.

“Where shall I live?” she asked, her voice trembling.

It felt as though an invisible hand had dipped into his chest and was squeezing his heart. He had never felt this drawn to a woman. His eyes took in her sweet round face framed by curly blonde hair and he felt on the verge of saying yes, he would marry her.

Instead, he turned his mind over the current predicament. The answer stared right at him. She could stay at his sister Helen’s boarding house. All he had to do was convince Helen. Now he wished that he had confided in his sister that he had advertised for a mail order bride.

He loved his sister, but she was a busybody. Had he told her, she would have discouraged him. She believed in true love and had been lucky to marry a man who loved her. Unfortunately, he had passed on a couple of years back.

“You haven’t answered my question,” Clara said, jolting him back to the present.

He turned his gaze to her and was struck anew by her beauty. “My sister owns and runs a boarding house. I’m sure she’ll be happy to take you on.”

He had expected a refusal and had braced for it, but none came. Instead, she dropped her gaze to her shoes and studied them as if seeing them for the first time. It took all his willpower not to cave in at that moment when she looked so vulnerable.

“What do you say, Clara?” Her name sounded good as it rolled off his tongue.

She nodded and sighed loudly. “Whatever you say.”

“Let’s take your luggage then from the car, shall we?” He should have been pleased to win the battle, but all he felt was a bitter taste in his mouth. He reasoned with himself that she wouldn’t do him much good in the farm, and the success he envisioned would not occur with Clara as his wife.

She was better off in the boarding house where there was a chance of meeting a suitable husband. Why did he feel miserable at that thought?

Chapter Five

Clara’s leg ached as she sat in the bouncing wagon. They were now on Main Street and she wanted to burst into tears from the pain and the humiliation of Nate’s words. She could feel Nate’s eyes on her when she rubbed her leg, but there was nothing to be done.

She had wanted so much to impress him. Sitting for so long in the train had made her leg numb and painful and by the time she got to Kansas, the pain had been almost unbearable.

Sitting down had eased the pain somewhat, but the shaking of the wagon brought sharp pains. The only thing that would give her respite was to rest the leg completely. What a fool she had been to think that anyone would want to marry her! The image of his shocked expression when she introduced herself kept popping in her mind.

The humiliation had been more than she could stand, but worse than that was the thought of going back home. Rejection hurt, but she swallowed it, together with her pride, and allowed Nate to take her to his sister’s boarding house. She imagined the insults that her father would rain on her if she returned.

The boarding house was at the end of Main Street, a two-story frame building with a long wide porch and wooden chairs arranged along it.

Nate pulled the reins to a stop. “My sister is a nice lady and you’ll be comfortable here,” he said.

Clara kept her gaze downcast. She had so many questions but feared voicing them. The last thing she wanted was to anger Nate and find herself on a train headed back east. Now she knew without any doubt that nobody would give her a job with a bad leg.

He jumped down and then reached up, gripped her waist, and easily lowered her to the ground. Her body shook from the contact. What was the matter with her? He had rejected her; why would she react to his touch?

She followed Nate up the steps to the porch. He knocked on the door and moments later, it swung open. A female version of Nate stepped out, with sandy hair held back in a ponytail, green eyes, and a wide smile.

“Nate!” the woman cried and took Nate’s hands into hers. “You really do keep yourself hidden on that farm of yours,” she said and then noticed Clara.

“Nice to see you too, Helen,” Nate said in a teasing voice. “This is Miss Clara Slater.”

Clara stuck her hand out, and Helen took it and shook it vigorously.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, my dear. Please come in. This is my favorite time of the day, when it’s quiet and everyone is busy with their own activities.”

They followed her into a square parlor with comfortable-looking furniture. A gray-haired woman looked up from her sewing, nodded at Nate, and continued with her work.

“Let’s go into the kitchen,” Helen said.

The kitchen was a large warm room with all manner of pots and pans hanging from nails on the walls. A delicious smell came from a pot in the stove, reminding Clara how little she had eaten.

“Please have a seat,” Helen said.

“I’d like to have a private word with you,” Nate said as he placed Clara’s bags on the floor.

They went through the back door and stood at a distance where Clara could see them conversing. Nate did all the talking, and she imagined him telling his sister her sorry tale. How she had failed to mention that she had a bad leg and he was not going to marry a lame woman.

Helen spoke and gestured with the hands, and the siblings seemed to be arguing. With a soft cry, Clara turned away and collapsed on the chair. The tears came then and she covered her mouth to muffle the sobs. Familiar emotions of feeling unwanted came over her.

She got her crying under control just as Nate and his sister returned to the house.

“Clara, Helen has agreed that you can stay here while we think of what to do next,” Nate said.

Clara nodded and mumbled her thanks.

“Take Clara’s bags to the second floor, room twelve. It’s at the very end of the hallway. I hope the stairs won’t be too much for you, Clara?”

Her heart constricted in embarrassment. “No, I’ll be fine,” she said and forced a smile. No matter what had happened between her and Nate, his sister had shown her nothing but kindness.

Nate left the kitchen with her bags. An awkward silence descended in the kitchen before Helen pulled out a chair and sat down opposite Clara. She took Clara’s hand.

“I’m sorry about what has happened between you and Nate, but everything will be just fine. You’ll be safe here with us.”

Her kindness undid Clara and tears fell from her eyes. Self-pity engulfed her. She had no one at all in the world and was at the mercy of kindly strangers.

“I’m sorry,” Clara finally said and mopped her face with a handkerchief. “I’m not usually so emotional.”

“It’s perfectly understandable; you’ve been through a lot today.”

Nate chose that moment to return to the kitchen. “I’ll be on my way now.”

“Make sure to pass by soon,” Helen said.

Clara could not bear to pretend to be cheerful. She could not help but feel resentful. Nate had judged her by a disability. He had not given her a chance.

“My brother’s not the smartest man when it comes to women,” Helen said. “But that’s his loss. I bet you’re starving.”

Clara smiled. “I could eat.”

Helen pushed her chair back. “I’ve got plenty of food.”

Clara sat back in her chair and fought to keep her eyes open. Emotionally drained, she had no more energy to worry about her future or think about Nate’s rejection. All she wanted was food in her belly and a warm, comfortable place to sleep.

“There you are,” Helen said moments later. “I’ll have someone put the tin bath in your room and you can wash away the grime of the journey.”

It should have been Nate treating her with such kindness, not his sister. Clara tried to smile. “I can’t tell you how grateful—”

“You’re welcome. And the less said of that the better,” Helen said briskly.

Chapter Six

Nate stared at the black and white cow that had just been delivered to the farm and didn’t know whether to feel pleased or sad. He had hoped to surprise his new wife with a cow so that they would have milk every day.

Now what was he to do with all the milk? His mind went to Clara. It had been four days since he had taken her to his sister’s boarding house and he had thought of her every single day. He wondered how she was faring. Had the frightened expression left her face?

It was none of his business now, Nate reminded himself. He grabbed the rope around the cow’s neck and led it into the newly built shed. Since it was evening, he would test out the truth of the farmer’s claim. He went into the house and returned to the shed moments later with a bucket.

“You behave yourself now, miss,” Nate said to the cow.

She did not respond and he took that as a go ahead to milk her. He squatted next to her udder and as soon as he touched her teats, she kicked suddenly, catching him squarely on the knee. He yelped in pain and jumped to his feet.

Grimacing in pain, Nate went out in search of a reed that he could use to tie the cow’s legs. He found just what he was looking for hanging over the well and, pleased, he returned to the shed.

“Let’s see you kick now,” he said to the cow after he firmly tied her legs together.

He proceeded to milk her and grinned as the bucket filled up. An idea came to him then. He needed very little milk for himself and usually went without unless he bought some in town.

Helen would appreciate the milk, he thought, carrying it into the house. His heart leaped at the thought of seeing Clara again. He placed the milk on the kitchen table and went into his chambers to clean up. It wouldn’t do to go there in his work clothes.

After washing his face and changing his clothes, Nate peered at the small mirror on the dresser. Satisfied with his appearance, he whistled as he made his way back to the kitchen. Helen was a good cook and he looked forward to eating a good home-cooked dinner.

His good mood had nothing to do with seeing Clara, Nate told himself, but it wouldn’t hurt to see for himself how she was doing. He packed the milk in a bottle and went out through the back to the barn and hitched the horse to the wagon.

***

Ten minutes later, he was driving the wagon down the road that led into town. Clara’s pretty face sprang to mind and he wondered if she had found a suitor. The thought should have pleased him; after all, if she got someone to court her, his guilt would ease.

He felt pleased for no particular reason, but he couldn’t remember feeling so light in mood. He approached the boarding house from the back and caught sight of Clara hanging over the well, pumping water. His first notion was that she would injure herself, and then he laughed off the thought.

She was a grown woman, not a child, and besides, she was not his responsibility. The rattle of the wagon alerted her to his approach, and she straightened up and their gazes met. He brought the wagon to a halt and sat staring at her. She was even prettier than he remembered.

How would it feel like to wake up to such beauty every single morning? Nate shook his head to free it of the disturbing image of Clara’s mass of blonde hair spread on his pillow. He watched in fascination as color spread to her cheeks. What was she thinking about?

“Clara?” he said.

She nodded and pushed a stray strand of hair from her face. “Hello. Helen has nipped out for a bit. She’s gone to get something from the mercantile.”

“That’s all right,” Nate said. “I’m in no rush.” He jumped from the wagon and landed next to her.

Close up, he inhaled her scent of soap and spices. Then he remembered her limp and took a step back. “How’s your leg?”

His question wiped away the friendly look on her face. Now she contemplated him, stony-faced. “It’s fine.”

 What had he done to offend her? Surely asking after her leg, which had clearly been causing her pain the last time, was a gentlemanly thing to do. It seemed that was not the case in Clara’s books.

“If you’ll excuse me,” she said stiffly and made for the back door.

He shrugged and proceeded to hitch his horse to a tree while observing Clara. The limp was not as pronounced as it had been, but the right leg looked weaker than the left. It had less muscle and was a little shorter.

He had been right to say no to a marriage. Clara was a pretty face and that was all. He needed more than that, a stubborn part of him insisted. But the part that felt attracted to Clara refused to let go of the thought of her belonging to him.

Chapter Seven

Why did she keep sneaking glances at him? He was a despicable man and she wished he would finish up his dinner and leave. Except when she looked at him speaking gently with his nieces and nephew, her heart melted. Another side of Nate came out when he spoke with the children.

He gave them his complete attention as they told him about their day. The family sat at one end of the long table in the dining room and the boarders on the other. Helen had insisted from the first day that Clara should always join them, and it made her feel wanted and welcome.

She brought her attention to what Nate was saying. The children and Helen listened with rapt attention as he told them how he had come about having a cow.

“You bought it from the Millers?” Helen asked and then turned to Clara. “They sold everything and returned east when they lost their crop.”

Clara made sympathetic noises.

“That’s odd. Why did you want a cow if you had nowhere to take the milk?” Helen said, and then quickly added, “Not that we’re not grateful. In fact we’d be happy to take any excess milk off you any time.”

They all laughed. Nate had a deep rumble of a laugh which surprised Clara when she heard it. She had not seen him laugh that first day, but there was hardly anything amusing about changing one’s mind about a mail order bride. His face smoothed and relaxed when he laughed, and it made him handsome.

Her eyes darted about, afraid that someone had read her thoughts. They would think she was a fool, and she probably was.

“I thought we’d need a steady supply of milk …” Nate said before his voice trailed off.

His words hit her like a sword to her chest. He had bought the cow in preparation for her arrival. A feeling of acute loss came over her and she felt tears jump to her eyes. Silence fell over their end of the table.

“Clara, do you mind helping me clear these dishes away?” Helen said, and Clara gratefully shot to her feet.

She gathered the boarders’ empty plates, accepting their thanks with curt nods. In the kitchen, she dropped the plates into the wooden sink and gripped the sides. The pain came in waves. Knowing the details of what she had lost made it ten times worse. Images of her waking up early to help with the milking or prepare breakfast popped into her mind.

“I’m sorry, Clara,” a voice said, making her jump.

Helen draped an arm around her shoulders. “Men are foolish, aren’t they? You’re a lovely woman, and one day, Nate will regret losing you.”

Of what use would his regret be? Clara’s mind screamed. She did not voice her thoughts. Helen was doing her very best, and she had acted as a friend more than anybody ever had in Clara’s life.

“You can stay here while I serve dessert,” Helen said.

Clara straightened her shoulders and plastered a smile on her face. “I’d like to help.” She was not going to hide away in the kitchen when she had done nothing wrong.

Helen beamed. “Good on you.”

Despite her brave talk, she kept her glance lowered as they ate the pound cake Clara had prepared that afternoon. She was glad of her cooking skills. It meant that she could help Helen with the cooking.

“Shall I tell you what happened when I tried to milk the cow the first time?” Nate said to his nieces and nephew.

“Yes, Uncle,” they chorused, and he proceeded to recount how the cow had kicked him smack on the knee and he had all but toppled on his back. The children giggled, and even Clara managed a laugh.

The conversation flowed easily after that and after she finished, Clara went into the kitchen and started on the washing up. Helen joined her and put the kettle to boil for tea.

“I hear there’s a new teacher coming sometime this week,” Helen said conversationally. “I can’t tell you how pleased that will make me.”

“The children will be happy, too, to get out of the house,” Clara said.

Already, she felt like a member of the family as she and Helen discussed the reopening of the one-room school. It had been shut for almost a year when the last teacher had left to get married. As they spoke, she almost, but not quite, forgot that Nate was in the house.

“Will you join us in the parlor for tea?” Helen asked, readying herself to carry the tray.

Clara thought of facing Nate again and all the emotions he seemed to evoke in her and she lost courage. “If you don’t mind, I’ll have mine here.”

“Not a problem,” Helen said and left.

It had only been a few days, but Clara admired and loved so many attributes about Helen. Clara could see how she had been able to cope after her husband’s death with her brisk attitude. She never forced a topic and, in the days Clara had been in the boarding house, she had not once asked her what her plans were.

It was a good thing as Clara had no plans. She concentrated on easing Helen’s burden as much as she could and refused to think about the future. Whenever the thought crept into her brain, panic set in, and she resolutely shoved it to the back of her mind.

***

She was just finishing up the dishes when Nate walked through the kitchen on his way out. To her intense relief and disappointment, he did not linger.

“Clara,” he said as he tipped his hat, intensifying his handsome looks. “Have a good night.”

“Good night,” she managed to say, and watched from the corner of her eyes as Helen and the children escorted him out.

She should have been relieved that he was gone. Instead, she felt as though she had lost him all over again. A foolish thought as she never had him in the first place.

Chapter Eight

Nate guided the wagon towards his sister’s home, excited at the day that lay ahead. The children had mentioned an interest in seeing the new cow and, it being a Saturday, he had decided to surprise them. As much as he tried to keep Clara from invading his thoughts, her pretty face kept filling his mind.

He wasn’t going to the boarding house to see Clara, Nate said firmly to himself. It was for the children. As he always did, he guided the horse to the back and dismounted as soon as the horse and wagon came to a stop. He hitched the horse to a tree.

Hurrying to the back door, he pushed it open and entered and then came to a grinding halt. A strange, tall, slim young woman with strawberry- blonde hair held back in a ponytail was carrying dishes into the kitchen. His sister followed closely behind.

“Oh Nate, I didn’t know you were coming around today,” she said and smiled broadly. “You haven’t met Emma, have you?”

“No,” he said and looked at the young woman, noting her good looks and quick smile.

They shook hands as Helen did the introductions. He was about to ask after Clara when she walked in at that moment. His heart leaped, and a smile came to his mouth against his own will. She was a breath of fresh air, and even though she was unsuited to be his wife, perhaps they could be friends.

“Nate,” she said shyly.

“Hello, Clara,” he said, and for a moment it seemed as if it was just the two of them in the room. He noted the color spreading on her cheeks and how they had filled out from when she first arrived. “I came to take the children out to the farm. They’ll enjoy meeting the new cow.”

“Oh, that’s lovely. They’ll like that,” Helen said.

The teacher left the kitchen, and then Helen turned to Clara. “Why don’t you accompany them as well? You’ve been working so hard and have earned a break.”

Clara began to protest.

“Mrs. Collins comes in on the weekends, remember?” Helen said.

Nate’s heart pounded with anticipation, and he realized just how much he wanted her to join them.

“All right, if Nate doesn’t mind,” she said.

He beamed. “The more the merrier is what I say,” he said. “But I must warn you, we must return in time for lunch. There’s no food at the farmhouse.”

“I’m sure Clara would be happy to whip up a quick meal,” Helen said. “I’ll pack her food to cook.”

“I didn’t say there’s no food,” Nate said, already thinking of the chickens.

“In that case, I’ll go and get the children ready. Clara, would you be kind enough to serve Nate some pancakes and coffee?”

He shot his sister a look of gratitude and settled into one of the kitchen chairs. Clara went to the stove and got the kettle. She poured him coffee and then proceeded to heap a generous helping of pancakes into a plate.

“That might be too much for one person,” he said as she placed the plate on the table.

“Not if you smear them with honey,” she said and limped into the pantry and returned with a jar of honey.

After she was done serving him, she went to the sink to wash dishes, her back to him. He made appreciative noises as he ate, the pancake melting in his mouth. She turned to him and smiled before returning to her work.

The scene felt right, as if he and Clara were in their own home in the morning. If only she had had a good leg and was strong and healthy. Regret became a bitter taste in his mouth and his enjoyment of the breakfast decreased.

“Did you inform your father of your safe arrival?” Nate asked.

Her shoulders stiffened. “No.”

“Why?” he pressed. He imagined her pa was eager for news of his daughter’s safe arrival in the west.

She shrugged and continued the washing silently. Puzzled, he did not pursue the conversation. Minutes later, Mary, Joseph, and Lillie burst into the kitchen amid shrieks of excitement.

“Uncle Nate!” they shouted.

“Does the cow have a name yet?” Mary demanded, her small hands on her waist.

“Not yet,” Nate said with a laugh. “I thought I’d leave that very important duty to you children.”

“How about we call her Betsy?” Joseph said, his expression solemn.

“No, I say we call him Emmanuel,” Mary said.

“The cow’s a girl,” Joseph pointed out.

“Let’s make that decision when you see the cow,” Nate said quickly, before the disagreement escalated into a full-blown argument. “Remember, you must spend a lot of time with her so that you can come up with a name that suits her.”

They nodded solemnly and at that moment, Nate longed for a brood of his own. His gaze turned to Clara. Her countenance was soft as she looked at the children. She would make a wonderful mother. Nate swallowed hard.

“Is everybody ready?” he finally asked.

“Almost,” Helen said, marching into the kitchen. “Here’s a bag with some extra clothes for everyone. I can’t tell you how grateful I am for this, Nate and Clara,” she said and then waved Clara away from the sink. “Leave those. Get your coat.”

His sister winked at him. “It’s almost like courtship, isn’t it?”

He frowned. “Helen, please don’t go giving Clara any ideas. I have no intention of courting her. She’s all wrong for me.”

“Why? Because of her leg? I can tell you that she works harder than most able-bodied people I know.”

Helen thought the best of everyone, and he didn’t expect her to understand.

“Just leave it, will you? My decision is already made. It would be far better for you to introduce her to the doctor or the lawyer or any other man who doesn’t make a living off the land. It’s hard work!”

Chapter Nine

It was a beautiful spring day when they set out to the farm, with the early morning sunlight giving way to strong warm rays. From the box seat at the front where she sat with Nate, Clara could hear the shrieks of joy coming from the children in the back of the wagon.

Nate was good company, especially when he was as relaxed as he was. As if sensing her stare, he turned to her, grinned, and returned his gaze to the front. Her heart pounded right out of her chest. He would make some woman very happy.

Her mind returned to Miss Emma, and her insides twisted with jealousy. Had Nate noticed her good looks and strong body? Had he compared her to Clara’s delicate-looking features? She pushed away the uncomfortable thoughts.

There was no point in worrying over something that had not happened. If Nate decided to court Emma, it would hurt her for a little while, but she would get over it. Meanwhile, the day was beautiful, and she intended to enjoy every bit of it.

It wasn’t often that she had a day to spend at leisure; besides, she was really eager to see where Nate lived. When they took the turn off the main road and the farmhouse came into view, pangs of longing came over her. She took in the simple but pretty farmhouse with admiration.

“What do you think?” Nate said as he guided the wagon to the back of the house.

Why did he want her opinion on his home after he had rejected her? Still, the house was so pretty with its wide porch, she couldn’t help but speak out.

“It’s beautiful! You live all alone? It’s big.”

He chuckled. “Just me.”

Until he got someone to marry. She wondered now if he had placed another mail order bride. What was the matter with her? What Nate did with his life was none of her business. Except, the more time she spent with him, the more she got attached to him.

“All right, children, we’re here,” Nate said, going to the back and lifting the children from the wagon.

“I can get down by myself,” Mary announced.

“I can’t!” Clara said from where she sat at the front.

“I didn’t think you would,” Nate said and came to help her down.

The children went running towards the barn and Clara followed, beaming at their excitement.

“It’s black and white,” Lillie said when they entered the barn.

The cow hardly noticed their admiring glances and continued chewing contentedly on hay.

“She’s fat!” Joseph said, and they all laughed.

“Is she carrying a calf?” Clara asked when Nate joined them.

Her abdomen seemed swollen, not that she had a lot of experience with cows.

“I don’t know,” Nate said. “The farmer who sold her to me didn’t mention it.”

They stood and watched as the children watched the cow excitedly, marveling at every movement she made.

“Can you show us how to milk her, Uncle Nate?” Mary asked a few minutes later.

“That’ll have to be in the evening,” Nate said. “She’s milked twice a day, and I already milked her in the morning.”

“Will you show us then, in the evening?” Little Joseph asked.

“How about you watch me for the first few couple of times?” Nate suggested, and they nodded.

“What will you do after that?” Clara asked softly. She was pretty sure that children didn’t milk cows.

“They’ll have forgotten,” Nate said with confidence.

Nate was restful to be with. He chatted easily with the children, pointing out different parts of the cow and trying to explain where the milk came from.

“I think I’ll leave you to it and go and see to lunch,” Clara said, stifling a laugh.

“I’ll get a chicken,” Nate said. “Come on, children.”

They parted ways at the back door as Nate and the children made for the chicken coop. The kitchen was exactly the right size with a table that could sit a large family. She giggled as her gaze moved to the sink piled high with dirty dishes.

It was good to see one thing that Nate was not good at when he usually looked so capable. She folded the sleeves of her dress and got to work cleaning up. When she was done, Nate and the children brought in the chicken.

“Miss Clara, I helped to remove the feathers,” Joseph announced, proudly holding onto the leg of the chicken.

“Pluck,” Nate corrected.

“And I made sure they did everything correctly,” Mary said and sent them all into peals of laughter.

“We’ll go and dig for potatoes,” Nate said, clearly enjoying his nieces and nephew’s company.

***

It was bittersweet being with the children and Nate. It showed Clara how the future would have been for them had Nate not rejected her. When she finished the washing up, she left the kitchen and took a quick tour around the house.

Clearly, Nate had taken a lot of thought into the house. The parlor was a good size and comfortable, and the sleeping quarters were enough to comfortably house a family. Sadness etched itself in her heart as she leaned on the doorframe and looked into one of the rooms.

“Clara?”

She tore her gaze from the room and limped back to the kitchen.

“We got some potatoes,” Mary said.

“And now you shall help me to peel them,” Clara said, and her eyes met Nate’s over the children’s heads. “I took a look around. I hope you don’t mind?”

His look was thoughtful. “Not at all.”

After that, the excitement dimmed a little as she couldn’t bring herself forget that the farmhouse should have been her home.

Chapter Ten

Clara entered the kitchen carrying a broom and a pile of dust folded into a brown bag. “Dining room and parlor swept and windows open,” she said to Helen, who was removing fresh loaves of bread from the oven.

“Thank you, Clara, you’re the hardest working woman I know,” she said while carrying the delicious-smelling loaves to the table. “Nate is blind … wait, was blind.”

“Thank you,” Clara responded and didn’t make a comment with regards to Nate. She was tired of thinking about him day and night and of fantasizing how it would feel like to be his wife. It was pointless.

“You know, I thought he would be interested in Miss Emma, but he didn’t look at her again after the introduction.”

Clara’s heart leaped with relief. She had worried that Nate would fall in love with the beautiful teacher.

“All along, his eyes were on the door, and when you walked in, he tried to hide a smile,” Helen said.

Clara shook her head. Helen was filling her with hope and she didn’t want to be disappointed again. She took the broom outside and when she returned, she faced Helen.

“Nate was very clear that he couldn’t be interested with a woman who had a bad leg. He even went as far as suggesting the kind of man who would agree to court me.”

Helen placed her hands on the table and contemplated Clara solemnly. “I see how my brother behaves around you. But more importantly, when he sees you, Clara, he lights up. Whether he likes it or not, he has developed feelings for you, and who can blame him?”

Clara could feel her eyes widening.

“You’re beautiful and hardworking and you have a heart of gold,” Helen said softly.

Tears welled in Clara’s eyes. Was Helen really talking about her? She remembered her father’s harsh words, spoken so many times that she had believed it. Useless! Good for nothing! Helen was a stranger and had no reason to lie to her. “Really?” she finally asked.

“Yes, really, and I’m pleased that my brother is not a complete fool and can see that now.”

How Clara wished that what Helen said was true. Clara inhaled sharply at the image of Nate laughing and looking at her in a way that said more than friendship. Was it possible that Nate could see beyond her disability now?

“What he needs is a nudge,” Helen continued. “Something to push him so that he’s left with no doubts in his mind.”

Clara’s heart pounded hard. If there was the slightest bit of hope that Nate had feelings for her, she was willing to give anything a try. “How do I nudge him?”

“Nate spends most of his day in the fields and when he gets home, I bet he’s tired and can’t get much cleaning done.”

Clara grinned, remembering the state of his kitchen when she and the children had visited the previous weekend.

“Like all men, I’m sure he would appreciate coming home to a clean house and maybe a hot, delicious dinner,” Helen continued. “We want him to realize how much his life would change with the right wife—you.”

A lightness spread in her chest. She would clean that house like it had never been cleaned before, and every surface would shine. Surely Nate had to see how right they were for each other. She enjoyed his company, and more than that, Clara knew she had feelings for him.

He would be an easy man to love, she mused, and sighed inwardly at the memory of his intense green eyes which smoldered with a feeling she couldn’t describe that always awoke her senses.

“You could go this morning,” Helen suggested.

All breath left her body at the thought of what lay ahead. Finally, Nate would get to see what kind of a wife she would make. That Saturday, after she had prepared roast chicken and potatoes for lunch, he had complimented her on her cooking.

Helen was right. He just needed a little nudging, and she was more than happy to do it.

“No time like the present,” Clara said to Helen. “Is there anything you want me to do before I leave?”

“No, everything’s done. I’m only watching the cooking. Thank you for all you do every morning. Don’t think I don’t see it and appreciate it,” Helen said with feeling.

It had started as a way to earn her keep for getting housed and fed, but over time, Clara just enjoyed helping Helen. She also helped with minding the children when their mother had to go somewhere. Her admiration for the other woman had grown by leaps and bounds.

She had lost her husband and yet, she never let the grief or fear cripple her. Clara touched Helen’s hand. “You’re welcome.”

They chatted a while longer and then she returned upstairs to get ready. She giggled as she recalled Helen’s parting shot—to spend more time on her hair. Even Nate was not averse to a pretty woman. She grabbed a shawl and proceeded downstairs and, as Helen had promised, a young man who ran errands at the boarding house was waiting to drive her to the farm.

All sorts of images popped into her mind. She sat stiffly with anticipation. Was this the beginning of their lives together? She couldn’t help but allow the seed of hope to grow and swell, as did her happiness. She hadn’t realized how badly she wanted to be Nate’s wife.

She had admired him from the first moment she had seen him. He was handsome, kind, and hardworking, and all of her life, Clara had never imagined that a man like him would be interested in someone like her.

Chapter Eleven

Nate knew that something was different as soon as he walked in through the back door. A scent of cleanliness pervaded the air. Curious, he entered the kitchen, and he knew for sure that somebody had been in the kitchen.

The dirty dishes he had left piled up in the kitchen sink were now gleaming and drying on the side. The table was scrubbed clean and everything put back in its place. His mind worked fast. It couldn’t be Helen, could it? But her life was very busy with three children and a boarding house to run.

Curious to solve the mystery, he entered further into the house, taking care to make as little noise as possible. He found her in the parlor, sprawled on the armchair, her head thrown back, and her face creased into a grimace. Clara groaned and grasped her right leg. Then her eyes popped open and she saw him standing in the doorway.

“Nate! I didn’t hear you come in,” she cried and sat up straight.

“I know, you fell asleep. What’s going on here? You didn’t let me know you were coming,” he said. “Are you all right? You looked as though you were in pain.”

“Not at all,” she said with a smile. “I just thought I’d come and clean and cook for you a meal. Surely you’ve missed a homemade meal.”

Her smile melted his heart and he found himself smiling in response. He sniffed the air. “Yes, something does smell good.”

“Let’s go into the kitchen and I’ll serve you,” Clara said and got to her feet.

The next seconds happened slowly, as if time stood still. She stood and as she took one step forward, her legs buckled under her, and she crumpled to the floor. He crossed the distance between them and knelt by her side.

She buried her face in her hands and loud sobs wracked her body. Nate laid his hand on her shoulder and pulled her to him.

“Clara, are you all right? Shall I go for Dr. Thompson?” he asked, worry gripping his insides. Whatever was wrong, he knew it had something to do with all the work she had done around the house.

He fished for a handkerchief in his pocket and handed it to her. She took it and mopped her face and slowly got herself under control. She looked at him with fearful eyes.

“Please don’t call the doctor. My leg usually becomes weak after I stand for too long on it without giving it time to rest,” she explained.

“Why did you push yourself so hard?” he asked.

She shrugged and lowered her gaze. “I thought if you saw what a hard worker I was, you’d want to court me.”

Nate groaned and got to his feet. Then he helped Clara into a chair. Thinking back, he understood why she thought that there was a chance for them. They had had a wonderful time when she and the children had come to the farm the previous weekend.

And to be honest, he had begun to entertain thoughts of Clara as his wife. Had she read his mind? Of course not! He quickly dismissed the thought. She had probably noted how well they got along and her hopes had grown.

“Clara, we already went over this,” he said, hating himself for what he was about to say. But he couldn’t have her think anything could happen between them. He looked down at her leg. It looked swollen, and he longed to touch it and sooth it.

“I know, but you judged me incorrectly. My leg doesn’t stop me from performing my chores. Ask Helen.”

He looked away. He didn’t want to hurt her, but she had to see things as they were. To open her eyes, Nate knew he was going to have to be cruel. His insides squeezed, and he forced himself to speak.

“Clara, look what happened today. You cleaned and cooked and what happened?”

“I told you, I neglected to take rests after every half an hour. I got carried away,” she said, a note of hysteria in her voice.

“I don’t know how else to say it to you, Clara, but I can’t marry you. It doesn’t matter how much I like you. I can’t marry a woman who’ll be a burden to me!”

When the words were out, Nate instantly regretted his outburst. Clara’s hands flew to her mouth and her eyes widened. After a few seconds, she got to her feet.

“Very well. Rest assured, I’ll not disturb you again,” she said stiffly and took her shawl on the chair.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“Back to the boarding house,” she said.

“I’ll take you,” he said.

“No! I’ll walk. I don’t want anything to do with you,” she said, her voice hard.

She limped off, and he heard the front door open and then close. He immediately got up and went out through the back door. He hurried to the barn and hitched the wagon. When he was done, he drove it as fast as he could.

Nate searched the road and didn’t see her. Surely she couldn’t have walked that fast, not with a bad leg? He stopped the wagon and saw her, seated on a log by the side of the road, her red-rimmed eyes on him.

“I’m sorry, Clara, I shouldn’t have said that,” he said.

“But it’s true,” she said.

His chest ached as though his own words were inflicting pain in him. He jumped from the box seat of the wagon and went to her. “I’m a foolish man, Clara. Please forgive me. I shouldn’t have said that.”

She searched his face and then nodded, apparently satisfied with what she saw.

“I want us to be friends,” he said. “We started off on the wrong foot and I’d like to correct that. One day you’ll find a man who truly deserves you.”

Chapter Twelve

“I imagine you’re very busy, being the only doctor in town?” Clara asked, and adopted an interested countenance when the truth was that she didn’t care about the answer.

Dr. Thompson was a good man and quite handsome with a neatly trimmed dark moustache and spectacles perched on his nose. The trouble was, Clara was simply not interested in him.

He smiled, pleased with her question, and before answering, he tugged at his beard. “You’re correct, the surgery is quite busy, and I’ve been planning to expand it by …”

Clara could not keep her mind on the conversation. It was six in the evening and she idly wondered what Nate was doing. Probably eating a dinner he had hurriedly thrown into a pot. She had taken to imagining him at different times of the day.

It probably had something to do with the fact that it had been two weeks since he had come to the boarding house. Clara knew it was best that he stay away, but with each day he was gone, her love for him grew stronger.

A sharp poke of an elbow on her left side brought her back to the present. She turned to Helen. She gestured at the doctor, who was still talking. Clara stifled a sigh and shot Helen an apologetic look. She couldn’t wait for dinner to be over and for Dr. Thompson to take his leave.

There was no hope for her with any other man. Her heart belonged to Nate, whether she wanted it or not. The previous week, Helen had invited a miner by the name of Nathan, and no matter how hard Clara had tried, she could not find it in herself to feign interest.

Now, she looked across the table and noticed the new teacher, Emma, staring intently at Dr. Thompson. Clara pushed her chair back.

“Excuse me, I must clear the dinner table, but I’m sure Miss Emma would be happy to take my place.”

Miss Emma’s eyes widened in surprise, but she quickly recovered and stood up. “I’d be happy to join you, Dr. Thompson.”

Helen followed her to the kitchen. “What’s the matter with you? You’re just going to hand Dr. Thompson over to Miss Emma?”

Before Clara could answer, the deafening sound of thunder filled the kitchen and shook the house, and lightning lit the kitchen. What seemed liked torrents of rain followed, the sound deafening. Clara had never experienced anything like it.

The downpour was heavy, and she felt glad to be safe indoors.

“It’s a storm. It happens sometimes,” Helen said, her brow creased with worry. “Nate’s crops will be destroyed if this rain doesn’t stop.”

Clara thought of the beautifully lined crops in Nate’s fields and how their destruction would shatter him. She said a silent prayer for the rain to abate, but it seemed to increase with every second. Helen peered out the window for signs of it ending.

“Is it dangerous?” she asked Helen.

“Not if you stay indoors,” she said grimly. “Most people know to stay safe indoors in such weather.”

She hoped that Nate would not do anything foolish.

“I’ll go there first thing in the morning,” Helen said. “Will you see to breakfast and the children?”

“No problem.”

***

The rain went on unabated all evening and most of the night. Clara got little sleep as her mind was on Nate out there in his farm. She woke up early the following morning and found that Helen had already left for the farm. The next couple of hours went by quickly as she was kept busy preparing and serving breakfast for the boarders and the children.

Helen returned just before ten and Clara and the children went out the back to meet her.

“It’s as bad as we thought,” Helen said as she climbed down from the buggy. “All the crops are destroyed, and not just for Nate, but all the other farmers as well.”

Clara gasped. “Oh no! What will they do?”

“They have a plan. They’re all determined to replant, but they have to get it done in a few days’ time to get a chance to harvest in the summer.”

Oh, Nate. She wanted to ask more questions, but she didn’t want Helen to know how strong her feelings for Nate were. How was he faring? Was he very sad? Hopeful? She felt so helpless.

“I wish I could help, but I’m needed here,” Helen said as they walked into the house.

It came to Clara then. She could help Nate replant. She had never planted anything in her life, but surely it involved digging a small hole, dropping the seed in, and covering it up with soil. She could do that. The last time she had tried to help Nate came to mind, and she almost lost her courage.

This time she would be careful. She would not let her leg get tired to the point of being unable to support her.

“I’ll go and help,” she said to Helen when they entered the kitchen.

“You will? After what happened the other time?”

“This is different. Nate needs help, and whatever happened between us, I like to think that we can help each other in times of trouble.”

Helen placed her hand on Clara’s arm. “You’re a good person, Clara Slater, and I’m blessed to have you as my friend.”

“So am I,” Clara said. “Can I use the buggy? I hope I remember everything I’ve been taught.”

“Of course you can. Is there food you can carry? It’ll save you cooking time.”

“Yes, there’s a lot of beef stew,” Clara said, her body tight with the anticipation of seeing Nate in such unfortunate circumstances.

Less than half an hour later, she was guiding the buggy down the road, away from town. As the farms came into view, she saw the flattened plants and her heart ached for all the farmers. As Helen had said, she could see people in the fields, busy planting. She urged the horse to move faster.

Chapter Thirteen

Nate worked like the devil himself was after him. He had been at it since morning and refused to stop and rest, or else the worry would overwhelm him. He carried a bag of corn attached to his belt and with his hoe, he dug a hole and threw in a couple of seeds.

It would have been far easier if, as neighbors, they had gathered in one farm, planted, and then moved on to the next. He had tried to convince his nearest neighbors, but they had been in a state of panic and had preferred working on their own fields.

Not that he blamed them. If they didn’t get the seeds down as quickly as possible, there would be nothing to harvest. After working for an hour, he stood up to stretch his back. When he looked at the area he still needed to plant, he wanted to weep.

Such a waste. Despair threatened to overwhelm him. Refusing to give in to it, Nate reminded himself of the nest egg he had in the bank. It would see him through for two seasons without a harvest, and he wouldn’t starve. When this was over, he would give some serious thought to beef cattle farming.

His farm was big enough to support several hundred beef cattle, and it would complement the crops, while cushioning him against loss from the weather. With renewed vigor, he went back to work, trying to get as much corn planted as he could.

It must have been an hour later when he became aware of approaching footsteps. He looked up and for a second he thought he was imagining Clara walking his way, carrying a hoe.

“Clara?”

She smiled. “The very same,” she said cheerfully, and he was grateful for it. “I came to help.”

“Clara, no,” he said. “Please don’t think I don’t appreciate it, because I do, but I don’t want you to injure your leg. Remember what happened the last time?”

“That time was my own fault for not resting it every thirty minutes. I should have known better.”

He was too tired to argue, and he proceeded to share some of the seeds with her and to show her how he was planting. He admitted to himself a few minutes later how nice it was to have Clara with him. He felt less lonely and much cheered.

Every so often, he threw a glance her way, but she looked fine. She was hardly breaking a sweat, working as though she had been planting all her life.

“Time for a rest,” he said.

“Okay,” she said without argument, and he also took a rest.

“It’s so peaceful here, so different from the city,” she said, looking around.

“A lot of folk from the East don’t like it much. They say it’s too lonely.”

She chuckled. “I can imagine my pa saying that.”

He was about to ask after her father, then he remembered her reaction the other time.

“Shall we go on?” she said and picked up her hoe. “My father and I, we’ve never had a good relationship. He blames me for my mother running away when I was young and says he sacrificed a lot to care for me.”

“Don’t all parents do that?”

She inhaled deeply. “Well yes, but in my case, he always said it was for nothing. No man would marry me with a bad leg, and I would always be a burden to him.”

Shock rendered him immobile and he stopped moving. He couldn’t believe that a father could say such things to his child. Guilt flooded him. He had done the same thing as her father and yet, here she was, helping him in his hour of need.

He didn’t like himself very much at that moment. “I’m really sorry,” Nate said, his voice choked. He meant for his part in hurting her and reminding her of her father.

She didn’t respond, and they worked in silence for the next hour. Again, he reminded her to take a rest, and she teased him that he was worse than the worst boss. They chatted easily, as if they had known each other for years. At noon, Clara said there was food in the house.

“Helen insisted I bring cooked food,” she said.

His stomach growled loudly, and they both laughed. “Helen is a very smart woman, and so are you,” he said and touched her cheek.

She went still, and their gazes fused. Nate’s gaze lowered to her mouth. How would it feel to kiss her? He tore his gaze away with a lot of effort and the moment was broken. It was a little awkward as they ate their lunch, but their hunger meant they didn’t dwell on it too much.

He noticed more of Clara than he ever had. Like how soft-looking her skin was and how, when she laughed, her eyes lit up. He was happy to note that so far, her leg had not given her a problem. He would not have forgiven himself for taking advantage of her generous nature.

After lunch, they worked steadily for the rest of the afternoon and by the end of the day, he was amazed at how much they had done.

“You know, we might just finish replanting everywhere!” he exclaimed. And then he realized that he was assuming that Clara would be there the following day. “Will you come tomorrow?”

As he waited for her answer, it hit Nate how disappointed he would be if she said no. And it wasn’t for the help she was giving him. She energized him and made him want to work even harder.

“Of course I will,” she said from the driver’s seat of the buggy. “I don’t do half jobs,” she quipped, and with a pull of the reins, she was off.

Chapter Fourteen

“I still don’t understand why you have to go,” Helen said, standing by her side in her room as she packed her clothes. “You told me how mean your father is; why do you want to go back to him?”

Clara sighed. She searched for words to explain to Helen why she was leaving and came up with nothing. Staying would be too painful. She loved Nate with an intensity that was dizzying. How could she stay in the same town with a man who didn’t share her love?

It was a recipe for lifelong pain. She would rather be back home and wonder if he had married, but never know for sure.

Even dealing with her father’s insults now seemed easier. Anything was tolerable as long as she didn’t have to see Nate and spend her life pining for him.

“It’s my home,” Clara simply said. No matter how badly her father treated her, she still belonged with him.

“Is there nothing I can tell you to make you change your mind?” Helen said softly.

She shook her head. There was only one person who could change her mind about staying, and he wasn’t interested.

“I’ll miss you so much,” Helen said. “I’ve never had such a close friend as you since my Jack passed on.”

Clara turned and the two women clung to each other. She cried softly. Helen had been a friend to her more than anyone had ever been in her life. She stepped away from the embrace and reached for her bags.

“I’ll take those,” Helen said and wiped her face on the sleeves of her dress. “Don’t forget you have a home here forever. If you change your mind, come straight back without a single doubtful thought.”

“I will,” Clara said, knowing that her life in the West was over completely. In spite of things not working out with Nate, it had been the happiest time in her life. “Let me say goodbye to the children.”

They were outside in the backyard, enjoying the warm spring weather.

“You’re leaving, Miss Clara?” Mary asked, a stunned expression on her face.

Before she could answer, the crush of wagon wheels on the ground sounded.

Clara shifted her gaze from the children and went absolutely still as a wagon came into view with Nate on the driver’s seat. He frowned when he spotted Helen coming out of the house carrying her bags.

“Are you leaving?” he asked, his voice shocked.

Clara didn’t understand him. Had he thought she would spend the rest of her life waiting for him to make up his mind? “Yes, I’m going back home.”

He brought the wagon to a stop right in front of her. “You can’t go!”

Clara wanted to laugh and cry. “Why shouldn’t I go, Nate Linch? What reason do I have to stay?”

***

For a few seconds, Nate couldn’t speak. The pain in his chest expanded, rendering every part of him useless. His legs trembled uncontrollably and it was a good thing that he was seated.

“Come on, children, let’s go into the house,” Helen said and shepherded the protesting children inside.

That distraction gave Nate time to get himself under control. He searched for the right words to explain that feeling of joy that came to him when he was in her company. He slid from the wagon and stepped close to her.

She looked tired and defeated. “I don’t want to miss my train.”

An urge to touch her came over him. He cupped her cheeks and as he looked into her eyes, he thought he’d burst from the myriad feelings inside.

“I was a fool, Clara. You’re no less than any other woman, and you’re stronger than most.”

She shook his hands free. He felt as if he had been slapped. Had her feelings for him abated? “Clara?”

A bitter laugh escaped her lips. It didn’t sound like the Clara he knew and loved.

“You’ve now realized that I can be of use to you in the farm?” she asked.

He nodded. “Yes.” It felt wrong. That was not what he had intended to say. Being so near her had muddled up his thoughts.

“Had you told me that a week ago, I’d have jumped with joy. But the past week has given me a lot of time to think. I deserve more than that. I may have a bad leg, and I may not be as pretty as other women, but that doesn’t make me less of a woman.”

“Of course it doesn’t!” he cried.

“I want a man who will love me. Someone who will not see my value in how much I can help him. Someone who will love me without reason.”

Tears filled his eyes. He had done a poor job of expressing his feelings.

“I’ve never been good with words, and I’m even less so in the presence of a beautiful woman. I know what I feel, Clara, and it has nothing to do with what you’re saying.”

A light lit up in her eyes. “Tell me then.”

“When I see you, no matter how bad things are, I feel happy. You’re like a beam of light, and when I leave that beam, I lose that joy that comes with being near you. I don’t want you to ever lift a finger, Clara; that’s not what I want you for. I’m here because I love you. I want to marry you and spend the rest of my life in that beam of joy. You make me happy, Clara.”

“Oh, Nate!” she cried and jumped into his open arms. “I love you too.”

“Miss Clara?” a child’s voice called from the kitchen window. “Are you still going back home.”

Clara chuckled. “No, Mary, I’m staying. You can tell your mother that.”

“I’m right here,” Helen called in an emotional voice.

Clara buried her head back in Nate’s wide, strong chest.

The End